


Puppy Love (sort of)

by ericaismeg



Series: stiles/derek ficlets [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Derek Takes Care Of Stiles, Dog Erica, Dogs, Everyone else mentioned - Freeform, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, Neighbors, Prank Wars, Pranks and Practical Jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 06:28:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2140596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ericaismeg/pseuds/ericaismeg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek might be having too much fun tormenting his new neighbour slowly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>"Your stupid dog bit me again!"</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Puppy Love (sort of)

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by anonymous:
> 
>  
> 
> \---  
> And hopefully a little fun and a little silly to cheer up my lovely, RainbowGingerKitty! (I still don't know if it's okay to use your name or not!) I hope this makes you smile, at least a little.
> 
> As always, thank you to [Another Erica](http://sayitthroughsong.tumblr.com) for betaing. :)

 

            Derek glances at the time. Perfect, he has a few minutes to get his coffee and head to the front porch to pretend he’d been there for a few hours. When he walks towards the front door, his favourite coffee mug in hand, he grabs a book from the table in the hall.

            The sun is still shining, the grass is green, and Derek’s mood is going to improve greatly in the next five minutes. He waits for his dog to trail after him and smiles down at Dog Erica. She’d been given to him by his best friend, Erica Reyes, who thought it was absolutely hilarious that Derek has a dog named after her.

            Derek watches as Dog Erica runs around in circles on the front lawn. She constantly pauses to smell something, marking her territory every so often.

            Just like clockwork, a familiar car pulls into the driveway beside them. Derek lifts his book, and only peeks out over the top of it.

            A car door slams, and Derek wonders if today’s not the day to play with fire. At this point, he’s usually able to tell whether it was a good day or a bad one based on how his neighbour shuts his car door. Derek sits up, ready to call Dog Erica back, only to discover it’s too late.

            She’s charging at Stiles, and jumps to grab his hand.

            Stiles Stilinski—the neighbour that Derek has been tormenting for the past seven months with high amusement—screams. He shakes his hand hard, and Erica loses her grip.

            “Your damn dog bit me _again_ ,” Stiles shouts as he storms over. Ah yeah, clearly he hadn’t had a great day today. Dammit, that kind of sucks the fun out of watching him fight with a dog that is the size of a cat.

            “I don’t know why she doesn’t like you,” Derek says, putting his book on the table beside him. “Is it bad?”

            Today’s bite didn’t look like Dog Erica’s usual nips. It actually looks kind of painful. Dog Erica is jumping at his heels, and Stiles demands, “You need to call her off.”

            “Dog Erica,” Derek says, out of habit. He says it a bit more gruffly the second time and she huddles over beside Derek’s feet. Her teeth are out, just in case Stiles attacks Derek. She’s freakishly like Erica in that sense. “I’m sincerely sorry for that. Let me see it.”

            Stiles shoves his bleeding hand out. Derek winces. Yeah, okay, so it was definitely less funny today. He nods towards his front door. “Let me take you inside and fix it up?”

            “Fine, but only because I’m out of bandages thanks to your rat,” Stiles mutters.

            Derek leads him inside, commanding Dog Erica to go upstairs. That’s where she’s different than Erica—she listens to Derek. Stiles sputters in shock.

            “She listens to you when you tell her to go upstairs and you _still_ let her attack me every day?!” Stiles asks, sounding slightly hysterical.

            “Not every day,” Derek deadpans. The truth is that he’s feeling pretty shitty right now. She’d gotten Stiles good today. He motions for him to sit down on a stool. “I’m sorry about that.”

            “Why are you trying to kill me?” Stiles asks, frowning at him.

            “Trying to—what? Why would you say that?” Derek asks, as he bends down to find his First Aid kit. “I don’t want to kill you.”

            “Okay, well, you’re driving me _crazy_. Do your fucking sprinklers _have_ to go off every day when I’m heading to work? They point directly at my Jeep, and I have to time it perfectly or I get soaked,” Stiles complains.

            Derek knows. He leaves three minutes after Stiles does. But it’s funny watching Stiles curse the sprinkler and try to dodge it. He’s his own worst enemy because he’s _hilarious_ and has no idea.

            “Oh, I didn’t realize—” Derek feigns innocence. He stands back up with the First Aid in hand, while Stiles eyes him as though he doesn’t believe him.

            “And you keep ordering things and putting the wrong address on it. I got into an argument with the mailman yesterday. He told me he only needed a damn signature and so I signed for your stupid package. I was going to bring it over this evening.” Stiles pauses and then asks, “What the hell is it? It’s so heavy it feels like _rocks_.”

            Derek tries to hide his smile. He quietly tells Stiles, “I ordered new weights.”

            “And sent them to _my_ place?”

            “Not intentionally,” Derek promises. “I asked my friend to order them for me.”

            And he _may_ have told Isaac the wrong address. He _may_ have pretended to be distracted on the phone with Isaac when he let the words slip out his mouth so that he would have a valid excuse to mess with Stiles.

            “Oh,” Stiles says, deflated. “What about the pizza you ordered?”

            “Pizza?” Derek asks, raising his eyebrows. “You mean when you first moved in? That was actually for you. But you didn’t really give me a chance to explain.”

            “You…bought me pizza?”

            “Housewarming present,” Derek offers. “I didn’t have time to cook you anything.”

            “Well,” Stiles says, frowning. “That’s a little awkward then. I may owe you a thanks and an apology.”

            “It’s fine,” Derek tells him. He adds, “This might sting.”

            “I’m a big boy,” Stiles mutters, but he still winces when Derek dabs the hydrogen peroxide on his bite mark. “Thanks for this.”

            “I figure I owe you one,” Derek answers. He focuses carefully on how deep Dog Erica had bitten. Erica would be proud of her rug rat.

             “Okay, so tell me about that whole driveway incident?” Stiles says.

            “I didn’t realize that Jackson had parked in your driveway,” Derek promises. That _had_ been a total fluke in the Drive Neighbour Stiles Stilinski Insane game. “He’s an entitled idiot.”

            “He made me late for a wedding,” Stiles grounds out.

            Derek raises his eyebrows. “Why didn’t you tell me that when you were bitching me out?”

            “I didn’t want to be _that_ neighbour who moves into the neighbourhood and bitches about everything,” Stiles answers, “and yet here we are.”

            “It’s okay, you have every right,” Derek says as he carefully pulls a bandage onto Stiles’ hand. He presses it down as gently as he can. “I haven’t been the best neighbour.”

            “Well, if that late-night party of yours is anything to go by, not really.” Stiles frowns. “ _Are_ you trying to drive me insane on purpose?”

            “Uh,” is all Derek can say.

            “I mean, I get new neighbours suck and everything. When I bought the house, I met Erica and Boyd. I guess it sucks having your two best friends move out.” Stiles gives Derek a sympathetic look. “Is that why your dog is named Erica?”

            “Erica got Dog Erica for me,” Derek explains. “She didn’t want me to get lonely or something. I’m not. Lonely, that is.”

            “That’s good. I am,” Stiles admits.

            Derek steps back and stands up straight now that Stiles’ bite mark is all covered up. “Oh, I—”

            “Scott and Allison got married recently. I’m actually surprised you and I never met before I moved in. Allison’s best friend is Lydia, and she used to date your friend, Jackson, for _years_ ,” Stiles tells him. “Anyway, for the longest time, there’s always been this nice crowd of us—Scott, Allison, Lydia, Jackson, and your friend, Danny. But Scott and Allison are married, Lydia is dating this hot guy, Aiden, and her career is skyrocketing. Jackson is a dick, so we don’t really get along. Danny’s cool, except he’s traveling around the world now—which you know. And so, it’s only me. And the house is so big.”

            “I didn’t realize we had mutual friends,” Derek murmurs.

            “Yeah, that’s why Jackson thought it was funny to block me in in my own driveway,” Stiles explains. “He’s still mad because I had a crush on Lydia—back in ninth grade, before I knew I was bisexual, and dicks are fun.”

            Derek blinks.

            “Whoa, sorry, sometimes my mouth keeps going after my brain has told it to shut up.”

            “That’s fine,” Derek murmurs. “I should have invited you over for coffee—or a movie—or something.”

            Stiles smiles brightly. “No worries dude. I wouldn’t have invited the new neighbour who keeps yelling at you over either.”

            “Except…” Derek sighs. Alright, time to bite the bullet. “You’re not crazy.”

            “I never said I was,” Stiles says, suddenly suspicious.

            “I may have let those little mix-ups and misunderstandings happen because…your reactions are really funny,” Derek says, wincing. “I didn’t mean for Dog Erica to bite you so hard.”

            Stiles blinks _hard_. “Excuse me? What the fuck is wrong with you? I’ve been nothing but nice to you! Are you telling me that you purposefully put your sprinklers on to get me wet in the morning?”

            “Uh.”

            “Oh my fucking _god_ , you’re such a dick.” Stiles shoots up from the stool. “You can go fuck yourself.”

            “Stiles, wait, let me explain—”

            But he’s already slamming the front door behind him. Derek sighs and mutters to himself, “It’s because I’m insanely attracted to you.”

            Which, now that he’s said it out loud, Derek realizes is absolutely insane.

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞ 

 

            The following three days are quiet, and it’s not until Derek comes home after a shitty day at work on the fourth day that he discovers that Stiles has finally retaliated. He frowns. There’s red writing on his windows.

            “ _This is war_ ,” is what it reads. He frowns and spends three hours washing it off. Stiles had left the bottle at the scene of the crime, and Derek had read it four times to ensure that it really was temporary window paint. Temporary, his ass—the outline of the words stuck and he’s too tired to finish the job.

            A few days later, Derek comes home to find that Stiles has replaced his mailbox entirely. It went from a normal mailbox to a huge, horrific pig. What’s worse is that Derek had lent Boyd his toolkit so he can’t even remove it until he gets that back.

            By the next week, Derek is starting to tire of taking Stiles’ shit. So he takes a day off work and paints Stiles’ picket fence bright pink. The scream he hears is worth the hundred and forty bucks it cost to paint it in washable paint.

            It rains hard that weekend, and Stiles’ front lawn has a pink tinge to it. The sidewalk is also dyed a little pink for a few days.

            Derek wakes up one morning to his entire Camaro covered in Sticky Notes. He stares at it, and realizes he has no time to take them all off. He uncovers his windows, and gets into a very colourful car.

            When he comes home, he calls up Isaac.

            “Listen, I’m at war with Stiles Stilinski.”

            “ _Why’s that?_ ” Isaac asks, sounding slightly bored.

            “He covered my entire car in Sticky Notes last night. Not to mention I have a huge, awful pig as a mailbox and he vandalized my window.” Derek sighs. “I don’t know what I can do to retaliate.”

            Isaac laughs into the phone and then says, “ _You’re against Stiles Stilinski, Derek. You don’t stand a chance, from what I hear._ ”

            “You’re not helping,” Derek mutters. “What do you know about Stiles?”

            “ _I know that he works very hard to pay off his dad’s medical bills from a surgery he had a while ago. I also know that he’s a very talented writer on the side of working as a manager at a catering company. He’s very close to Scott McCall. Jackson still calls him a little shit, but I think Jackson secretly misses him. Uh, I know that his mom died when he was younger, and he’s an only child. Also, the guy sometimes does the Big Brother program._ ”

            “You know a lot about him,” Derek comments. The truth is, that’s the most insight Derek’s gotten about Stiles in the entire time they’ve been neighbours. “Where did his dad get surgery?”        

            “ _Beacon Hills, of course. Dude, he was only three years younger than us._ ” Isaac huffs. “ _Why are you being a dick to him again?_ ”

            “It’s fun,” is the only answer Derek comes up with.

            “ _Yeah, well, if this is your way of flirting, you’re awful at it._ ”

            “Shut up, Lahey.”

            “ _Is it his eyes? Do they make you all gooey?_ ” Isaac asks, laughing.

            “No, it’s his…” Derek hesitates before he says, “Everything. His everything. He’s driving me crazy.”

            “ _Whoa_ ,” Isaac whispers.

            “Yeah.”

            “ _Listen, my date arrived. I’ll talk to you later—but I’d like you to remember that you’re messing around with a decent person. From what I know, anyway._ ”

            Derek sighs, but says goodbye and hangs up. He does some digging, which is quite easy for him. He finds the information he needs very quickly, and decides to do one thing that he knows will help Stiles Stilinski—and probably piss him off too.

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞ 

 

            It’s seven o’clock—or close enough to—and someone’s pounding on his front door. He doesn’t have to open the door to hear Stiles’ shrieking voice. “Derek, open the fucking door! I know it was you. Open the goddamn door, Derek!”

            “What’s wrong?” Derek asks, after he swings the door open. Stiles storms in.

            “ _You_ , you’re what’s wrong. You paid for my father’s medical bills, didn’t you?” Stiles demands, stabbing a finger against Derek’s shoulder, and glaring at him.

            “Uh, yeah, but listen—”

            “You’re _such_ a dick.” Stiles takes a deep breath and then unexpectedly throws his arms around Derek. “Thank you so much. Obviously I have to pay you back, and obviously I’ll pay you back with interest, but I know you’ll yell at me if I’m late with payments. But at least I won’t get those scary letters anymore about them taking the house that I bought two weeks before the shooting.”

            “Shooting?” Derek asks, meekly as Stiles pulls away.

            “My father’s surgery—it was for a shooting that occurred when he was off-duty. They had to take out three bullets. It’s a miracle he’s alive,” Stiles says, his voice shaking. “I’m so mad at you for doing it, and so fucking relieved. Can we discuss a payment plan?”

            “I don’t want any money from you, Stiles. Consider it an apology,” Derek improvises. The truth is that he had figured maybe doing something nice for Stiles would be part apology and part fun because it’d make him angry. He wasn’t expecting this strange sense of gratitude. “I did ruin your fence.”

            Stiles lets out a strangled laugh. “Yeah you did, but I noticed there are small bits of glue still on your car from the Sticky Notes—and the paint on the window.”

            Derek shrugs. “That’s not a big deal.”

            “Neither is the fence—which, nice by the way. I happened to like the pink. Too bad the rain washed it away,” Stiles says, a smile on his lips. “I had my next prank all lined up, when I got the call from Mama McCall saying I could relax.”

            “What were you planning on doing?” Derek asks. He shuts the front door, which gets Dog Erica’s attention. She comes trotting in and starts to growl when she sees Stiles. “ _Dog Erica, no_.”

            She hesitates before she runs to stand behind Derek’s legs.

            “It was going to be the world’s best toilet papered house _ever_ ,” Stiles tells him. He bends down slowly and holds a hand out to Dog Erica. “Hi baby.”

            Derek notices that Stiles still has a bandage on his hand where Dog Erica had bitten him. He bends down quickly to grab it. “Is this because of her?”

            “Yeah, it didn’t heal quite right,” Stiles says, meeting Derek’s eyes.

            “Stiles—”

            “It’s all good. It’s healing properly now,” Stiles assures him.

            “The money for your dad’s surgery—don’t worry about it. You’d paid most of it back already, anyway.” Derek waits until Stiles nods slowly.

            “Thanks man. I appreciate that,” Stiles says, quietly. He takes his hand back from Derek to hold it out to Dog Erica. She looks up at Derek before she sniffs Stiles tentatively.

            “Friend,” Derek says softly to Dog Erica. She understands and starts licking Stiles’ hand appreciatively.

            “Wow, she’s a great dog when she’s not attacking you,” Stiles says, making Derek laugh.

            “Want to stay for dinner? I was going to make some tacos, pretty basic.”

            “Tacos sound wonderful,” Stiles says, standing up when Derek does. “What do you do for a living?”

            “I’m a professor—Hotel Management. Sometimes I teach event planning classes, but that’s only every few semesters or so,” Derek tells him. “Isaac said you’re a caterer?”

            “Yeah, right now I’m working as a manager for someone. I would like to be able to open and run my own company one day though,” Stiles explains. “I’ve talked about it with Lydia—that’s Jackson’s ex-girlfriend—a couple times. She’s got a crazy-good mix of business smarts and incredible PR skills. She’s considering it right now.”

            “That sounds great—I hope it works out for you,” Derek says, hoping to sound genuine.  By the smile on Stiles’ face, he succeeds.

            “Thank you. This is definitely a pleasant surprise,” Stiles says.

            “Definitely.”

 

♚♞♚♞♚♞

 

            “Your damn dog bit me _again_ ,” Stiles says almost four months later. “I thought Dog Erica was starting to like me?”

            “She went to the vet’s today, and apparently, she didn’t enjoy herself,” Derek says, rushing down the stairs. He scolds Dog Erica and she runs back inside. He takes Stiles’ hand in his. “I’m really sorry about that, she’s been so good lately.”

            Stiles shrugs. “It’s okay, it’s not that bad.”

            “It’s bleeding.”

            “Yeah, well, are you going to patch me up or not?” Stiles asks, grinning.

            “Or not,” Derek deadpans. But he’s already dragging Stiles down his pathway and towards the house. “How was your day?”

            “Quiet. How about yours?”

            “Very quiet,” Derek answers as he silently instructs Stiles to sit down. “This reminds me of how much of an asshole I was in the beginning.”

            Stiles snorts. “Whatever, you’ve paid your dues by now. It’s all forgiven, and everything.”

            “Uh, thanks.”

            “I have to ask though— _why_ did you torment me?”

            “You looked hilarious when you were upset…very cute,” Derek adds on a whim.

            They’ve been doing so well lately. Sometimes Stiles even cooked for him, but mostly Derek did the cooking or they ate out.

            Every so often, they’d watch a movie together. Derek even had a huge party and invited Stiles—and Stiles’ friends, Scott, Allison, and Lydia. Jackson had been extra nice to both of them that night since Lydia had decided she wanted to date Jackson again. They’d laughed over how weird it was.

            Erica had been purring over how Dog Erica and Stiles had bonded—which wasn’t a strong enough bond to counteract for a bad day at the vet’s office apparently.

            “Cute?” Stiles echoes questioningly.

            “Yeah, you get so huffy and bent out of shape. It’s amusing and cute and you’re very attractive when you’re being amusing and cute,” Derek stammers. He leans forward. “This might sting.”

            “I’m a big boy,” Stiles says, but he still winces when the hydrogen peroxide is dabbed onto the bite mark. “Goddammit, how old am I?”

            “I told you it was going to sting,” Derek points out. He grabs a bandage. “This should cover it.”

            Stiles sighs, and asks, “So you think I’m attractive, huh?”

            Derek meets his eyes. “So much so that I acted like I was a six year old with a crush.”

            Stiles grins. “That’s funny, because I really enjoyed coming over to yell at you for this or that. It was a nice excuse to breathe the same air.”

            Derek snorts and rolls his eyes.

            “Seriously though, you should have asked me out.”

            “Would you have said yes?” Derek asks, as he carefully puts the bandage on Stiles’ hand.

            “Yes.”

            “And if I asked now, Stiles? What would you say?”

            “Hmm,” Stiles says, as though he’s debating the answer in his head. He smiles at Derek. “Yes.”

            Derek leans forward, and his lips do something he’s wanted to since he saw Stiles Stilinski moving in some heavy boxes.

           

**Author's Note:**

> · I'm taking basic prompts and I'm attempting to write them. This will be a #Fox Erica Wants to Write This series - because that's the tag I use on my [tumblr](http://www.foxerica.tumblr.com/tagged/fox%20erica%20wants%20to%20write%20this) for prompts/writing ideas/etc.
> 
> · If you would like to leave me a prompt please do so **[here.](https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1-urLkiJAkcFOEtqKpRH7xh9u3an8bAyBcIuhckmQejo/viewform)**
> 
> · [tumblr](http://www.foxerica.tumblr.com)


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